"THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES" - читать интересную книгу автора (L'Amour Louis)

"Perhaps. I've been to a lot of places."
Rawhide kicked his boot toe into the earth and watched Hopalong stripping the saddle
from Topper. "You sort of look familiar."
"That right?"
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LOUIS L'AMOUR
"Like somebody I seen in Montana. Or maybe it was Texas?"
"Never can tell."
Rawhide chewed that over, but he didn't like it. Locally he was known as a hard character,
and he fancied the reputation. He did not like his questions being avoided. Besides,
he had an uneasy feeling thai this was a man whom he should know. Whom it was important
to know. He rolled a smoke and shot an uneasy glance at Hopalong, who was placidly
giving his horse a rubdown with a handful of hay.
"Lock have much to say?" he ventured.
"Said he had a brother," Hopalong ^admitted. "I'm goin' to look him up."
"Mister, you better slope it. This here ain't a friendly town."
"Well"-Hopalong Cassidy's eyes twinkled a little-"I'm not huntin' trouble with anybody."
He turned and started for the door. "So long."
"Hold up there!" Rawhide was angry now. "I asked you a question and I want an answer!"
Cassidy stopped and turned slowly, facing the man in the half-light of the livery
stable.
"What did Lock have to say?" Rawhide repeated. "I could beat it out of you!"
Instantly he knew he had said the wrong thing. Hopalong Cassidy took a step toward
him. "All right," he agreed, "you beat it out of me. But start now. I'm in no mood
for waitin'."
Rawhide swallowed, touched his dry lips with his tongue, and his face became somber.
Suddenly he realized this man would not bluff and he would not scare. Fairly called,
Rawhide found he did not want trouble. Not now, not here.
"Oh, shucks!" he said. "I was just funnin'! It don't make any difference, only I
figured maybe he talked and said something
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THE TRAIL TO SEVEN PINES
interestin'. I'm not huntin' for trouble. You're plumb on the prod."
Hopalong watched him without speaking, waiting. Rawhide shifted his feet nervously,
wanting to stride up to this man and strike him, to threaten him with a gun, anything.
He wanted to, but a deep-seated judgment warned him it would not be advisable to
try.
Hopalong gave him one more look and turned on his heel. Coolly, without a backward
glance, he walked out into the sunlit street.
Rawhide stared after him, his eyes ugly. "You'll see," he whispered. "I give you
twenty-four hours in this town!"
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CHAPTER 2
Ramrod
of the
Rocking R
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